


call it even

by effing-numpties (avenging_cap)



Series: evermore songfics [1]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Kinda, M/M, Normal AU, Pining, Songfic, Yearning, baz being really dramatic send tweet, hometown hookup, it's about the yearning, tis the damn season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28701873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avenging_cap/pseuds/effing-numpties
Summary: “And the road not taken looks real good nowAnd it always leads to you and my hometown”-'tis the damn season, taylor swiftBaz returns home for the holidays and runs into his ex-roommate/almost boyfriend in a pub.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: evermore songfics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103921
Comments: 14
Kudos: 54





	call it even

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my series of one shots based on Taylor Swift's evermore. I'm super chaotic so these will not be posted in order, but I'll go back and put them in order when it's done. I haven't decided if I'm doing the bonus tracks yet or not, we'll see how motivated I am (lol).
> 
> This is 100% [seducing_a_vampire's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seducing_a_vampire/pseuds/seducing_a_vampire) fault! Thank you for constantly being excited for more t swift content. 
> 
> Also, as per usual, you might spot extra song references throughout the series! 
> 
> I'm giving each fic a title from the song because there are too many lyrics that are good in every song, and they each deserve their moment. 
> 
> Here is track 4, ['tis the damn season.](https://open.spotify.com/track/6sQckd3Z8NPxVVKUnavY1F?si=KW33UnYOQqSDwQ3QgISz5g)

_I see it. The ache in you put there by the ache in me._ Even as he smiles now, I know it’s rooted deep inside from when I put it there all those years ago. When I shoved all my hurt at him, hoping it would make him go away.

It never made him go away.

In fact, he’s still here, back in our hometown, laughing his head off at the bar. (I say _hometown_ because Watford _is_ our hometown—I grew up at the top of a tower with _him_ ).

What if, after all the fights, we could call it even? Stop counting, stop keeping track. In another world, I could sit next to him at the bar and captivate him with just a smile. In this world, it’d just start another round of Pitch vs. Snow.

I’m too tired for that. Instead, I sit down in a booth, far enough away that he won’t notice me.

The pub is all lit up for Christmas, and it’s sickening. Colorful lights are strung around the perimeter, and there are not one but _two_ Christmas trees haunting the corners of the room. It’s bad enough that I had to come home for the holiday, but this is like salt in the wound. It’s too holly, too jolly.

Of course I wanted to see my family, but the chances of seeing _him_ were far too high. I couldn’t risk that, not after everything that went down between us before we left for university…

I just didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to see his shining bronze curls falling all over his face as he throws his head back laughing or leans over the bar to chat up the barman. I didn’t want to hear his laugh, because I knew I’d recognize it anywhere.

And yet I came here, to the place he was most likely to be.

I’m flustered when the waiter arrives, so I order the first thing I see. The cheese toastie arrives at my table cut out in the shape of Father Christmas. Someone let me know what I did to deserve this.

I suppose coming here would have been enough, but I came here with a _plan_ , which is worse. With a speech I’ve been rehearsing for weeks, ever since I realized I’d have to come home.

“Pick up Mordelia on your way!” Daphne said on the phone, as if it was nothing.

The school day isn’t over for a bit, so I came here. The local pub, the most likely haunt for Watford Prep students (and those who can’t leave their student days behind them). I still have two hours until I can pick her up. Why did I leave uni so early? Why did I come _here?_ Why didn’t I force father to come pick the little menace up?

 _The speech._ It all comes back to the speech. I thought it up one night, sitting alone in my dorm room, realizing how empty it felt without him there. How I spent eight years of my life living with him, and now I don’t know how to live alone.

_We could call it even._

We’ve both said enough shitty things over the years, we may as well give it up. Neither of us won. I deserve a shirt that says _“I fell in love with my roommate and all I got was this crooked nose.”_ And a helping of overwhelming angst.

_You could call me babe for the weekend._

I know he could. That was the end of everything, really.

“You know what the worst part is?” he said, his eyes practically shooting daggers at me. “I could have loved you, if you weren’t always such an absolute arse.”

Then he left, and I never saw him again. Until now.

_‘Tis the damn season._

I’m here. He’s here. Why not give it a trial run?

When I go to bite off Father Christmas’s head, I find that the sandwich is already cold. Something about my disgust at the congealed cheese makes me stand up.

I have a clear view of him now, still laughing (Christ, does he ever stop?). It’s a moment before I realize he has a clear view of me, too. Still, I stand there, transfixed.

He looks up now, and there he is, the glorious Simon Snow, taking me in. Our eyes meet, and the tension is palpable. This time, though, it doesn’t even feel menacing. For the first time, I truly feel how much time and space there is between who we were back then and who we might be now.

_We could call it even. You could call me babe for the weekend, ‘tis the damn season._

He’s stepping off his stool, but I’m still rooted to my spot. I raise a confused eyebrow. He shrugs, but he’s smiling. I’m smiling.

Are there people looking at us? I don’t care.

I’m walking towards him before I can stop myself. I shrug right back at him, and his smile turns into a smirk.

_‘Tis the damn season._

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr.](https://effing-numpties.tumblr.com/)


End file.
